He could see his Tyrolean friends behind the glass partition
of the little hall. There would they sing, not in the open. It was
nearly the same, for presently the windows were raised and their voices
came floating out to him, the bourdon of Roeselein's organ easily
distinguishable. Love had sharpened his ears. He drained his glass and
sent for another. He felt that he was tumbling down an abyss of passion
and that nothing in the world could save him.
The intermission! He stood up to attract the attention of Herr Johan
Praeger. Roeselein saw him and at once neared him, but without the basket.
This delicacy pleased Krayne very much. It showed him that he was not on
the same footing as the public. He made the girl take a seat, and though
he felt the eyes of the crowd upon him, he was not in the least
concerned. London was far away and the season was too young for the
annual rush of his compatriots. Would the Fraeulein take something? She
accepted coffee, which she drank from a long glass with plenty of milk
and sugar. She again gazed at him with such a resigned expression that
he felt his starched cuffs grow warm from their contiguity to his
leaping pulses.
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